A Rose for the Dead
by It's The Fear
Summary: Since the horrors that lurked in Raccoon City, Chris Redfield has stared death in the face countless times and barely broke a sweat. But what is he supposed to do when he finds himself grieving over the only woman he's ever truly loved?


He didn't know what to do. For the first time since Raccoon City, and everything he'd worked so hard to accomplish, had been destroyed, Chris Redfield didn't know what to do.

_Chris ran at Wesker, his fist pulled back behind him as he charged. Not in the least bit impressed, a crooked smile spread over Wesker's thin lips. Chris stopped in shock when he felt Wesker's fist close over his. Before he could free himself from the older man's dangerous grip, Chris found himself colliding with the brick wall behind him. The wind got knocked out of his lung from the impact as he collapsed onto the cold ground below. He could hear Jill as she struggled against the powerful man they both once called Captain. He pushed himself to his knees and reloaded his chamber._

_He moved quickly as Jill fell hard onto the ground, her gun falling out of arms reach. He pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times, but each bullet failed to leave so much as a dent on Wesker. Annoyed, Wesker grabbed a tight hold of Chris's shoulders and flung him across the room like a doll. Chris rolled onto his knees, coughing desperately as he tried to bring the air back into his lungs once again. He could hear the heavy footsteps approaching as Wesker stood in front of him, but his brain couldn't push a signal to do anything but struggle for breath. The next thing he knew, Wesker was holding him a good few foot off the ground, his fingers wrapped tightly around his throat._

_"You know, Chris, I really should have disposed of you back in Raccoon City. It irritates me that you've been living among me all this time."_

_Unable to get more than gasps out, Chris's fingers pried at Wesker's, a feeble attempt to free himself from the grip that would not doubt kill him._

_"I think I'll just finish you right here…" Wesker laughed as his fingers dugdeeper into Chris's throat._

_He could hear her scream out his name. Chris's eyes watched as Jill came running at both of the men, her gun still lying on the floor behind her. He watched helplessly as she tackled Wesker, grabbing a tight hold around his waist as she threw him into the glass of the window beside them. It shattered under the weight, and fell alongside both Wesker and Jill._

_Chris dragged himself to the window, his hand reaching out towards Jill as she slipped away from him. Falling, falling, gone._

The phone suddenly began to ring, jerking Chris out from the nightmare that was replaying before his eyes. He didn't move a muscle as he cracked his neck, leaning back in his reclining chair. As far as he was concerned, if it was anybody or anything important, they could leave a message. Taking sick days from work meant taking sick days from everything else he considered a chore, even answering the phone. He could hear the rain pattering against his window outside as his answering machine beeped, ready to record the message.

"Hey, Chris, it's me."

He recognized that voice in a heartbeat. It was his little sister, Claire. If Chris knew her, she was no doubt leaving a message to see how her big bro was holding up.

"Just leaving a message to see how you're holding up." Chris chuckled, shaking his head. "Give me a call back; I'll probably be at home for a few hours." There was a short pause before she spoke again. "It'll be okay, Chris. Just hang in there, alright?"

He remembered that she too had suffered a loss not too long ago. It was beginning to seem like people around the Redfield's were dropping like flies. First, their parents. Then, countless others in the horrors that would become Raccoon City and Rockford Island. And now Jill. Who was next in this war against death that everyone seemed to be losing? When would it ever stop?

He remembered how heart broken his little sister had been when he brought her home from Rockford Island. She had ran into a young boy there, by the name of Steve, if he remembered correctly. He remembered her telling him that at first, he annoyed her to no end. He was whiny, childish, and extremely clinging. But time after time, he seemed to prove himself to her, his strength and his courage. She wasn't dating Leon at the time, though her thoughts had no doubt been stuck on the idea of it being him and only him. But eventually, Steve had turned her around, and she began to find herself falling for the boy who had been stuck in the undead nightmare with her.

But, of course, fate had proved itself to be bitter and heartless as it swept his soul away with the countless others Umbrella had already stolen.

Chris remembered how utterly heartbroken Claire was about Steve's death. How she blamed herself for something she had no control over. Even with Leon by her side through the whole ordeal, Claire was restless at night, and had no appetite for far too long. He could recall the painful image of his precious little sister shriveling away to nothing.

And now, it was his turn. It was his turn to spend countless hours cursing himself over something he didn't do or didn't say. He spent a handful of years working closely with Jill. He had met her as a member of S.T.A.R.S., back when they were both under Wesker's command in Raccoon City. There was an attraction and chemistry between them that no one could deny. The room lit up whenever they were together, and he had had to deal with hearing about it constantly from the guys. But it was a line that was never crossed, no matter how much either of them had wanted to leap to the other side. They were allies, comrades, and partners; in a world that would not allow love to shine through the darkness. Not theirs, not now.

Taking on a herd of approaching undead didn't even make Chris Redfield break a sweat. But whenever he found himself staring deeply into Jill's heavenly blue eyes, his throat suddenly dried up, and he found himself at a loss of words.

_You know, you should really tell her how you feel, Chris. Some things should never be left unsaid._

His little sister's words clung onto the back of his mind. Every time he would try to tell her those three small words, every limb on his body would simply shut down. He had just always assumed that there was tomorrow. He wasn't aware that their tomorrows were soon to run out.

He let out a sigh and pushed himself out of his recliner. His dark hair was frazzled, a clear result from not bothering to shower or groom himself since he lost Jill. His appearance was one of the last things on his mind. It's not like he was trying to impress anyone. Well, not anymore.

Before he knew it, Chris found himself standing in front of his balcony door, his eyes fixed in a trance as they stared off into the grey sky above. The only sound around him was that of the rain as it pelted against the glass, begging to come inside. He could barely see the houses across the street; the fog was so low and thick. It seemed like there was nothing out there. That once Jill had died, so had everyone else in the world. There was nothing left but him and the rain that wouldn't stop.

_He couldn't believe what had happened. Just a few hours ago, Bravo Team had been dispatched to the Arklay Mountains to investigate a number of grisly murders that had bodies turning up in the forest zone. Contact had been lost with them not too long after they left the S.T.A.R.S. headquarters, catching the attention of Alpha Team Captain Albert Wesker. Not too long after, Alpha Team had been dispatched to the Arklay Mountains only to discover a horrible secret that had been locked away inside the Spencer mansion._

_The dead were rising, and they were hungry. The dogs that had chased the surviving Alpha Team into the Spencer Mansion were ferocious as they tore Joseph Frost apart. Chris couldn't remember much more after that. He told Jill to head towards a mansion that was in the clearing, and then everything just went black. The next thing he knew, he was locked in a jail cell, and his gun had vanished along with his teammates. So he waited, unable to do much else, and hoped for someone to find him._

_And then she came. She came like an angel and rescued him from that jail cell and his inevitable death. He could still see her smile, her face as it lit up in relief to see he was unharmed and still alive. He had feared for the worst, that the rest of his team had been torn apart by the monsters that lurked within the mansion walls. His heart ached with the thought of Jill's last terrifying moments before her heart took its final beat in the hungry hands of the undead. And then, there she was, standing before him as the alarm blared overhead, announcing that a self destruct alarm had been activated._

They had thought that that was the last they had seen and heard of Umbrella, the corporation responsible for the viral outbreak in the Arklay Mountains. But of course, their encounters with the evil corporation proved to be far from over.

Chris's little sister, Claire had been swept up in the horrors that Umbrella had unleashed upon Raccoon City. Chris had always blamed himself for that. Claire had gone to Raccoon City to look for him, and in return, found herself in a city of the undead. Luckily, she had run into a rookie cop along the way, a young kid, as Chris refers to him, by the name of Leon Kennedy. Who, let's face it, isn't really a young kid anymore.

So many lives were ruined by Umbrella and the viruses that so many think makes them a God. In a matter of days, almost the entire S.T.A.R.S. team, both Alpha and Bravo, had been whipped out. Chris's little sister's life had forever been changed after the horrors she experienced in both Raccoon City and Rockford Island. Leon's whole life was thrown upside down as he struggled alongside her in Raccoon City, and then once again in Spain against far more superior 'zombies'. And Jill. Jill had given her life to what she believed in. More importantly, she'd given her life to protect her partner's.

Chris swallowed the lump that was stuck in his throat as a bolt of lightning struck down from the heavens. Before joining S.T.A.R.S., the only loss he ever had to recover from was that of his parents when he and Claire were both young. It had been hard, but he had never let his little sister see the death's affect him. One of them had to be strong. For years he pushed the void in his heart away, preoccupying himself with the concern of raising his sister to be everything she could and more. He never had time to grieve the loss, and now, he found he had plenty.

The loss of his allies in S.T.A.R.S. had been hard to overcome. No one should feel the pain that they had to moments before their deaths. But he had picked up the pieces and moved on, knowing that he would eventually avenge their deaths. He never thought he would have to pick up the pieces from Jill's death. The one person he needed more than anything in the world had been taken away from him all too quickly.

He cursed himself for not being faster, for not being stronger. If he had been, he could have finished Albert Wesker off by himself, and Jill would not have been put in danger. Jill would not have died in order to save his life. It's his fault that she wasn't here with him. It's his fault she wasn't sitting on the couch next to him, laughing at the sitcoms they always watched amusingly together on their time off.

There were times when Chris wished Jill had not saved him, that it had been the opposite way around. It was selfish, but Chris didn't want to feel the heartache and loss that was slowly chipping away at his heart. At least if he were dead, he could have escaped the empty feeling that lurked deep inside of him.

He glanced over at his dinning room table and saw the plate of fruit that sat in the middle of it. Jill had bought that for him when he had moved into his new apartment. She said it needed to be spruced up a little, that it needed to look more like a home instead of somewhere he crashes after a tough mission. His stomach tightened at the site of food, and he turned away almost instantly. Why should he eat when Jill could no longer?

Was it worth fighting for? In the end, when he came home at night and had bloodstains on his hands and clothes, the images of injustice imprinted in his brain, and the loss of a friend and partner chipping away at the sanity that remained, was it really worth it?

His phone began to ring again behind him. His body remained facing the glass door as his head turned to look at his phone. Hey, like he said, if it was important, they would leave a message.

"Redfield, this is your captain speaking. We've received word of a viral outbreak in Africa. I want to dispatch you immediately. I'd appreciate it if you swung by the headquarters as soon as you got this. I know you're there, Redfield. Don't worry; there'll be someone at that end who will assist you in this mission. Rendezvous at headquarters ASAP."

A new partner. Already. Like Jill Valentine is a doll that can just be replaced. Chris ran a shaky hand through his hair. Jill's heart may have stopped, but nothing else around him did. The world was still turning; people were still working, while Jill was rotting away six feet under.

His heart sunk further into his chest as his arms ached to feel her body in them. He wanted to feel the comforting warmth that was Jill Valentine. It broke his heart to know that she died never knowing how he truly felt about her. Every morning, since they worked together in S.T.A.R.S., Chris woke up with a smile on his face, knowing that in a few short hours, he would be in Jill's presence once again. Even if he couldn't be with her, being around her seemed to fill the void that seemed to just grow bigger and bigger everyday.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, without even trying to be. Her short, hazel brown hair that hung just over her chin always shined so brightly, even in the bad lighting that lit up headquarters. Her wide, baby blue eyes always seemed to glitter like the ocean under the warm sun. Her laugh light and cheery, and always seemed to put Chris's nerves at ease whenever he heard it. She never wore makeup, but always looked stunning, as if she were born with it already laid perfectly over her face. No matter how bad of a day he was having, once he looked into her eyes, every worry that was coming at him seemed to disappear. In those moments, nothing mattered but Jill.

He had never found that in a woman the 25 years previous to S.T.A.R.S., and he knew that he never would again. He had it, and he was foolish enough to let it slip through his fingers. There was nothing he could do now but wait until his heart slowly stopped beating. And then, maybe, if God truly did exist, he could be with her once more.

Nothing he could ever do would bring her back to him. Nothing he could ever do would put her back into his arms once more. She was gone forever, and he had to accept that and move on.

From now on, everything he would ever do would before her. Every person who worked with Umbrella, every person who was responsible for her untimely death would pay. He would see to that personally. Even if it killed him, he would find a way to avenge her death. Even if it meant traveling half way across the world to do so. Jill Valentine's death would not be in vain. He would make sure of that.

Chris turned away from the window and made his way to his bedroom. He picked up the essentials, his wallet, his passport, and put them into his back pocket, all the while, his eyes planted on the nightstand that sat beside his bed. He opened the drawer and looked at a handgun sitting perfectly still, his fingers just burning to touch it. He picked it up and ran his fingers across an engraving on the side.

Jill Valentine.

He squeezed the gun and placed it back in his drawer, picking up his own. He slipped it into its holster while he threw on a jacket to protect him from the down pouring rain that waited for him outside.

This was just the beginning. Someone would pay for what happened to Jill Valentine. He didn't doubt for one second about what type of creatures were waiting for him once he arrived in Africa. But once you've looked fear in the face, you can't look back. And he wasn't the type to look back.


End file.
